Man I like you.
I like you a whole bunch of a lot.
You're a pocket full of awesome.
I like you like pirates and fratboys like booty.
Like david copperfield likes performing grand-scale, lame ass feats of illusion.
Like how the
I like you like how testicles and homeboys like to hang.
Like how homeless people and breakdancers like cardboard.
Like muppets like fisting.
I like you a whole bunch of a lot,
and a whole lot more times than infinity.
And maybe that's starting to dip into the equation of love.
Nevertheless I got a thing for you.
Like magnets stuck to a refrigerator, I'm stuck on you.
And I like it.
I like you an official metric fuckload.
I think you're a body full of soul, and I hope you like me back.
I guess I'm just tired of meeting people
that define themselves by what they don't like.
I just don't like that.
But I do like holding you.
The way your pillow holds your head when you sleep.
The way gay, lesbian, transgender, irish and
mexican people like to hold parades.
The way the earth holds the moon,
and the sun holds the earth and how they'll
constantly spin around each other forever.
And even though that metaphor doesn't
really make sense in regards to this poem,
because it would imply theres 3 of us.....
Which would also be AWESOME..
But you get the idea.
In my book you rock, and I like rocks......
What the fuck...?
Anyhow...just because I spent an hour or so writing this down,
doesn't mean you have to like me back,
but damn I would really like that.
А я пошла спать. Л. приезжает через 3.5 часа.